We braved IKEA (in MA, on tax-free weekend, no less) and came home with a kick ass picture of Piccadilly Circus, plus some new office organizers for my new office. (They’re peeeeeeeeenk!), because that’s what crazy people with money do.
Then, we went to Seacoast Power Equipment (*snicker*) for a new lawn mower, because that’s what responsible adults do.
Then, we went to Michael’s where I bought some ridiculous peeeeeeeeenk flowers for the new office because that’s what people who hate hotel room beige do.
Then, we went to the mall where I bought more suits for work, because that’s what corporate sell outs do.
Then, we went to Five Guys for lunch/dinner, because that’s what hungry people do.
Then, we went to Bed, Bath and Beyond, because that’s what people with suits do when they don’t have hangers for their suits.
Then, we went to Bath and Body Works, because that’s what people who want to smell nice do.
Then, we went to Hodgie’s for ice cream, because that’s what adults do when it’s dinner time.
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Seriously, when it’s all spelled out like that it’s BORING… but we had so much fun today that it was totally ridiculous.
I don’t get sappy about the husband here, and I hardly talk about our relationship, for a lot of reasons.
It’s days like today, though, that totally prove how lucky I am to have found him. That he’s hung around through the worst of it all. Things could have turned out so different if we had stuck to our guns when we broke up. Twice.
Life has a funny way of giving you what you need, even if it is in the form of a redneck, white trash, farm boy from Ohio. (She says with love… honest!)
Today was a good day and it was mostly because of him.
Now that I’ve gotten over the panic of finding a new job, and actually BEING at the new job, life is pretty damn good.
Here’s some quick snippets of life at the hotel / motel / Holiday Inn…
My official title is Assistant Corporate Controller, but when I write it down, I almost always write it as “Ass Controller.” I don’t know why I insist on forgetting that damn T every time, but I do.
One of our vendors, Leslie’s Poolmart, is in our software as Leslie’s Poo.
We had a reservation for a group listed as “New Englind Executive Ass”. I have no idea what they do, but I fucking LOVE the name. (Let’s just ignore the fact that the brain trust who booked the group in the system can’t spell New England.)
(Yeah… I’m 12 years old and laughing at ass and poop jokes.)
It is expensive to replace elevators. I mean, I know they’re not cheap - this is actually the second company I’ve worked for that’s installed new elevators - but it’s shocking when you have to write a check for six figures, which is only 40% of the total cost.
It’s also crazy expensive to be a franchisee of a brand name chain. The amount they charge us for the use of their name, among other brand specific things, is ridiculous.
SMERFs are a real thing! It’d be cooler if they were little blue creatures who live in mushrooms, but SMERFs are SMERFs.
I’m learning all kinds of exciting new things. The hospitality industry is like a gazillion different types of fascinating. So much goes into running a hotel that it’s insane… besides the meth lab in our HQ, I’ve heard stories of thieving housekeepers, domestic disturbances, trashed hotel rooms, shady front desk staff. Not necessarily at any of our hotels, but we did have a trashed room during my first or second week. That was pretty cool. OH! And the room next to ours? A car drove into it. Right through the fucking wall. (Long before I started, but that had to have been interesting.)
So yeah… now that life is calm, the bipolar is hibernating, and I’m generally feeling pretty damn chipper… I’m happy there and I can see myself there for a long time.
It took long enough.
It didn’t hurt that I got to see Black Mountain Symphony on Saturday, in Weedstock either. That was huge in putting my world right, as it always is.
Oh - let’s discuss the show, shall we?
I don’t know why, but Mike got the idea that he wanted to see me high. Like I’d be even more fun to be around. As if that were even possible!
That led to a confession to Rollz, that the closest I got I ever got to even thinking about getting high was when they were here on one of their road trips and it was me and him outside. I don’t know why I finally came clean. There’s just something about him… I even thanked him AGAIN for reading “Scott and Kate” and pushing me in the direction of reaching out to the Duke of Stud.
Someone once asked me if I had a thing for Rollz, and it’s not like that. He’s a nice guy, and there is a connection, but no. Just. No. There’s a lot to love about him (at least the bits I’ve been privvy to), but yeah. I’ll pass. I’m too old for that kind of shit.
Besides, if I’m going to waste my time worrying about a relationship that isn’t going to happen, I’m going to focus on Johnlock. (From the description of a fan fic I’ve bookmarked to read later: “because god dam in a row boat that man has the most delicious arse I have ever seen.” Come on! That’s so much better than worrying about whether or not I’m going to get it on with someone ten years younger than me who has a girlfriend. By the way, I am TOTALLY fucking stealing god dam in a row boat. That’s awesome.)
Speaking of relationships, “THIS WEEK: HARTFORD!!” (Part one of my Cabin Pressure ‘trilogy’ - which finally has a name!) is really, truly, almost ready for another round of editing. I did a little bit of a rewrite. OK. I did a LOT of a rewrite. This is a bigger bitch than writing a Sherlock case fic (and THAT is a right bitch, my friends). I wish I knew what drove me to write fan fic for Cabin Pressure. *sigh*
And on that note, I need to prep for GISHWHES. Misha changed things up and it starts on Sunday. (Instead of November…) SUNDAY! I’m not ready for that level of insanity. Wish me luck!!!
The BBC has announced the new Doctor… and already the shit is flying.
Yeah, we all wanted David Tennant back. We all wanted a woman. We definitely wanted a ginger.
We didn’t get any of those.
I have no idea who Peter Capaldi is, but he’s the new Doctor.
Oh. Wait. That’s not quite true - he was in an episode of DW already, and he’s in “Fortysomething” with the Cumberbabe which is definitely on my list to watch, once I figure out how to get my hands on it. I’m assuming tumblr, you tube or google will prove useful. If not, I *think* it’s available in a region 1 DVD version on Amazon. If not that, then there’s always hacking my DVD player, getting a UK iTunes gift card, or buying a regionless DVD player… OR… there’s always the crazy idea of ACTUALLY MOVING TO THE FUCKING UK ALREADY INSTEAD OF THINKING ABOUT IT NON-FUCKING-STOP.
Frustrated much?
Anyhoo… I’m a little leery of his regeneration. It took me a long time to become a Matt Smith fan, and now… *poof*. (Literally?) I have to start all over again.
It didn’t help that before the live announcement (thank you, BBC America!), they aired David Tennant’s last episode. I fucking bawled like a baby, because… well, the feels!!! It might actually be worse than the Reichenbach feels. Yeah, it probably is.
Between “Catching Fire” and the DW 50th Anniversary special, November’s going to fucking rock.
Rereading my last few entries has led me to believe that I REALLY shouldn’t blog when I’m manic.
I normally write somewhat terribly here (compared to my fan fic, work, etc.), but wow.
I fucked up loose/lose and that’s one of my BIGGEST pet peeves. And that whole thing about my Subie?
What. The. Fuck.
I would never, normally, call my Subaru a Subie. It’s a Bubaru. Always has been since the woman fucked up saying ‘Subaru’ during my very first Subaru’s very first oil change. Always will be.
For a car that survived high school, college, and the move to Ohio (so what, 10 years?), we saw a lot of things, lived through even more, and THAT’S still one of my top ten memories.
That says a lot, doesn’t it?
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Any way… calmer emotions, a quieter head, today.
It’s good - I need to recharge before heading to NY tonight. Annie will be crushed. I’m staying with her brother and his girlfriend, but C offered first and I’m looking forward to getting to know her a little better.
I’ve needed the release of a good night, with good music, and better people in a while. This show couldn’t have come at a better time. I don’t care that we’re going back to NY in two weeks for Annie’s wedding… I NEED to be in upstate tonight like I need to breathe air.
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Feeling better about work. It kind of ebbs and flows. I’m worried I’ve made the wrong choice still, and I know that’s my stupidity. I’m perfectly capable of doing this job. They love me. There are things I want to do there to really make everyone’s life easier. Month end’s not rocket science…
I know this is residual from the last job that didn’t work out because weeks 3 and 4 were when all hell broke loose then. Week three was not a good week (mania…), but that’s not directly job related so I think I’m OK.
Besides, if anything, the perks make it more tolerable than most jobs I’ve held. Free lunches every day and I’ll never pay more than $59 for a hotel room as long as it’s within our parent brand’s properties. (And they own some VERY NICE brands that I would never stay at because of the pricing.)
OK. I should go pack…
Here’s to good friends, good music, and a good time in Weedstock!
I’ve been reading some pretty NSFW fan fic during my lunch breaks. (Oh my phone! I’m not completely moronic.) And this one piece, is… WOW! I can’t go into a lot of detail because then you’ll really lock me away in the funny farm, but anything that involves Sherlock falling off a coffee table multiple times (before deducing that if he can’t see the coffee table, he can’t fall off of it), and a thousand mentions of hedgehogs, will make me snicker.
I laughed so hard, I choked on my lunch. I laughed so hard I cried. I laughed so hard my boss had to come on and check on me.
I had no idea what to tell him. I mean, I’m not at the point where I could say to him, “Hey! I’m reading this ridiculously dirty piece of Sherlock BBC fan fiction and Sherlock keeps falling off the coffee table while trying to get buggered by John.” (And that’s the BARELY safe for work version.)
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My car wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. Apparently, a loose gas cap was the cause of the check engine light. The sad thing is, we tested that theory about six times. Both of us. I’m not sure what the probability of both J and I leaving the gas cap too lose is, but we both loosened and tightened the damn thing.
Oh well. They fixed the weird idling issue, gave me new brakes… and I am ready to go to Weedstock tomorrow night!
It’s been too long since I’ve seen Black Mountain Symphony and if I had to, I’d fucking walk there this weekend.
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I came home to five Cabin Pressure themed t-shirts (because the hubby of wonder is wonderful), and… THIS!
I have been not able to use words of more than one sound since I saw this the first time.
In other news… the hotel I work in was home to a meth lab. Some guy came in last year, rented some rooms and set up a one pot lab. Blew shit up, too. They’ve caught him and I guess he’s going to court or whatever, but MY HOTEL WAS HOME TO A METH LAB. How fucking cool is that?
What? You can’t tell me anything that cool has happened in your offices.